Brokken Arrow

by Abagail Eldan

  Silently, she rose from her seat and moved forward. Mr. Hale’s legs blocked her path. She raised her skirts in anticipation of stepping over when he moved and opened his eyes. He blinked sleepily, and a smile curved his lips as if he’d awakened from a pleasant dream. His gaze found hers, and she froze, mesmerized by his eyes. He did not attempt to look away but remained relaxed, his face open to her. And his smile broadened, crinkled around his eyes, and made her insides turn into a comforting warmth that drew her closer. His legs remained outstretched, and he lifted a hand, as if to reach for her.

  Mr. Caper spoke cheerfully for so early in the morning. “Good morning, Miss Brokken, Mr. Hale. I trust you slept well?”

  Deborah stiffened, and Mr. Hale, with a visible effort, sat straighter and twisted in his seat to face Mr. Caper. He gave a nod before his gaze shifted back to Deborah, not meeting her eyes. Awkwardly, he stood and moved backwards, into the aisle. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I was blocking your path.” His voice was husky, whether with sleep or another emotion, she didn’t know.

  Deborah did not trust her own voice. She made her escape without speaking or looking back.

  CHANCE SLID BACK INTO his seat and shook his head, endeavoring to shake the cobwebs loose. He’d been dreaming of a woman ... surely not Miss Brokken, someone he’d only met the day before? He blew a breath out slowly and allowed his eyes to slide shut and endeavored to recapture the dream. He granted himself the luxury of imagining a life with Miss Brokken before chastising himself.

  How foolish could he be? His best bet was to steer clear of all women or face more heartache. The faster he got off this train, the better, far away from Miss Brokken.

  No woman would have him, not after what he’d done—no decent woman anyway, certainly not Miss Brokken.

  But why had she moved toward him in that way, with that look on her face? He shook his head. She was only trying to get by.

  The attraction between Miss Brokken and Mr. Caper was obvious, and he could not compete with someone like that. He had everything Chance did not.

  He tightened his jaw, surprised at the emotion he felt. Jealousy ... he was jealous of Mr. Caper. He almost snorted his derision. Why would he be jealous when he had no plans of marrying any woman?

  Let Mr. Caper have Miss Brokken, if he wanted her. All he wanted was to find a job, a job to keep body and soul together, preferably far away from people, especially women. He was tired of their scorn, their questions ... even their admiration. He breathed heavily and noted Mr. Caper chattered beside him, although he had no idea what the man said.

  Chance’s hat had fallen on the seat beside him, and he smoothed back his hair and replaced it, pulling it low over his forehead. If he’d had any sense, he would have changed his name. But how was he supposed to know he’d meet someone like Mr. Caper straight off, someone who knew at least some of his past actions?

  The anger, jealousy, whatever it was, drained from him, and Mr. Caper’s words finally reached him. “...be there soon,” he said. The man had his hand on his arm.

  Chance stiffened and pulled away. “Sorry, Mr. Caper. I didn’t catch what you were saying.” He spoke softly since the sheriff still slept across from them.

  “I was pointing out that if my calculations are correct, we’ll be arriving in Brokken in an hour or maybe sooner.” His smile broadened.

  Chance gave a nod at the good news. He’d be able to get away from Miss Brokken as well as Mr. Caper, who, it seemed, never stopped talking.

  He rose to his feet, not wanting to be present when the lady returned. “I need to check on my dog.” The excuse seemed to satisfy Mr. Caper, and Chance walked away.

  The conductor from last night met him, his face wreathed in a smile. “Good morning, sir.” He leaned in closer. “Would you like a cup of coffee? We don’t offer it to passengers, normally, but in your case, I will make an exception, after what you did for our country.”

  Although the coffee would be welcomed, Chance shook his head. He did not want any special treatment, especially for what he had done. “No, thank you, but I appreciate your offer,” he said with an effort. Although he obviously meant well, the conductor didn’t know how misguided he was in his admiration,

  The man did not allow him to pass but pulled a watch from his pocket. “Sir, you might wish to know we will be arriving twenty minutes early. We’ve made good time.”

  Chance nodded and attempted a smile.

  “Are you sure you don’t want coffee?” Another passenger commanded the conductor’s attention, and the man finally moved and allowed him passage.

  Only forty minutes until he could escape the train. Relief flooded him as he made his way to the baggage car. Rascal greeted him with a yelp and whine. The conductor had been true to his word and reinforced the crate.

  Chance dropped to his knees and stuck his fingers through the slats. This had been a long trip for his dog, as it had been for him. To be confined like this was inhumane, and he kicked himself for allowing it. He should have traveled by horse or wagon, let his dog run along beside him. It was too late now.

  He rubbed the dog’s fur, what he could reach. “It won’t be long, boy, and you’ll be free.”

  The words were like a stone sinking to the pit of his stomach. He considered again what awaited him when he stepped off the platform, onto the streets of Brokken. He’d have to confront Miss Wanda Waldruff and tell her it was all a mistake. It was doubtful she’d hire him. Afterall, she didn’t want someone to work at the stockyard—she wanted a husband.

  He sat back on his heels. Perhaps he was wrong to reject the notion of marriage out of hand. Wasn’t it possible he could find happiness, and if not happiness, companionship? He held his head in his hands for a moment and cursed himself. He’d momentarily forgotten that was not the problem. It wasn’t his happiness but hers that mattered. No woman would ever be happy with him; no one would ever understand what he had done and would look at him with distrust in their eyes. He shrugged. Why not let the woman make the decision? If she wanted to turn down his proposal, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. He knew nothing of this woman and maybe he should discover more.

  He pulled out the packet of letters, settled back, and began to read as Brokken grew closer. After a few minutes, he looked up, contemplating what he’d read. The wistfulness in the letters touched him, attracted him. Her picture, enclosed in one of the earliest dated letters, showed a young, attractive woman. With such good looks, she was far from desperate. He doubted if she’d accept him, or rather his brother’s version of him. But would it hurt to find out, to play the part?

  What did he have to lose?

  Chapter Five

  Deborah lingered for as long as she dared. The sheriff would be coming to find her any moment. When she made it back to her seat, she was relieved to find Mr. Hale missing. Her cheeks still burned from her reaction to his lazy smile. What must he think of her?

  But his behavior had been odd also. Perhaps Mr. Hale had been dreaming—unlike her. Some folks dreamed with their eyes wide open, and he must be one of them. He certainly had not been reacting to her. His lazy smile and lift of his hand sent shivers down her spine, even now. Flustered, she barely heard Mr. Caper’s words. Sheriff Vic had awoken, and she gave Deborah a curious look but, thankfully, didn’t question her.

  Deborah pulled a book from her carpetbag and opened it to a random page. It didn’t matter what page. None of the words made sense to her. Each time someone walked by, she started, thinking it was Mr. Hale. It wasn’t until the train let out a long mournful wail that he returned, giving but a nod to indicate his acknowledgment of the others, including her, she supposed.

  Even so, her heart beat wildly, from embarrassment, she was sure. She kept her nose in her book, afraid she’d be pulled in by those eyes again. She didn’t have to worry. A sideways glance showed he kept his hat pulled low, and his eyes downcast.

  The train lurched to a halt after the few minutes from the whistle to the arrival at the d
epot having stretched to an eternity. The ranch beckoned her, a haven away from Chance Hale and all the emotions he stirred within her. All she had to do was get on the wagon with their foreman, Isaac, and head home. She hadn’t counted on the train arriving twenty minutes early and Isaac nowhere in sight.

  She joined the crowd on the platform, with only her carpetbag on her arm. Several ladies strolled by when they disembarked, taking a keen interest in the men milling about. Deborah’s legs were weak, from her long travel, and she scanned the crowd in vain for Mr. Isaac.

  The sheriff touched her arm to gain her attention. “I’ll be out to the ranch later, Deborah. I need to sleep in my own bed for a day or two before I can function again.” And she hurried away before Deborah responded.

  As she waited on the platform, she spotted Lavendar arriving with Miss Sophia. Deborah stifled a laugh behind her gloved hand and wondered what her reaction would be to Mr. Caper. Unlike the other ladies, Lavendar waited patiently beside Miss Sophia. Wanda stood near them also and stopped for a moment to consider Mr. Caper before her glance moved to Mr. Hale. Somehow, she knew Mr. Hale was her intended. A shy smile landed on her lips, and she dipped her head in approval.

  Deborah walked down to greet her, and Wanda gave her a hug, holding to her for a moment to whisper, “Did you happen to meet Mr. Hale?”

  “As a matter of fact, I did.” She turned to see him only a few feet away.

  If she could get him interested in Miss Waldruff, perhaps her heart would cease to betray her. Deborah smiled in his direction and made a slight motion of her head. He took the hint and moved closer.

  “Miss Waldruff, may I introduce Mr. Hale?”

  To her surprise, he swept the hat, that hat he’d hidden behind, off his head to reveal his unusual gray eyes. His elusive smile returned. To give them a little privacy, Deborah turned toward Lavendar and Miss Sophie. She said words she had no recollection of afterwards.

  Wanda did not tarry long, probably remembering that she was not supposed to meet her intended except under Preacher Grisson’s watchful eye. Deborah glared at Wanda’s retreating back before she remembered she had no need for jealousy. She had no interest in Mr. Hale, certainly not after what Mr. Caper had told her. Mr. Hale would be very happy with Wanda who was an intelligent, kind woman, a couple of years Deborah’s senior, and she hoped Wanda would find happiness also. Even though Mr. Hale had said he didn’t want to marry, his behavior indicated otherwise.

  This was what Deborah wanted, the couple’s obvious attraction to each other, but for some reason, pain lingered in her heart. She turned her attention back to Lavendar.

  Her friend’s breath came in quick gasps, so typical of Lavendar when she became overexcited. “We wanted to meet the train, to escort the men to the hotel. Miss Sophie and I came as quickly as we could.” She put a hand to her chest, as if it could calm her, and smiled.

  Mr. Hale stepped closer to Deborah, and she was keenly aware of his presence. When Mr. Caper moved between Mr. Hale and Deborah, she was happy for the distraction.

  Lavendar’s violet eyes lit up with appreciation, and she gave a warm smile.

  “This is one of the intended grooms,” Deborah said. “Mr. Klint Caper.”

  A hand flew up to cover Lavendar’s mouth. “Mr. Caper?” A pleasing shade of rose covered her cheeks.

  “Mr. Caper, this is Lavendar Lilley whom I understand you’ve corresponded with.”

  She moved back to allow Mr. Caper to have a moment of privacy to meet his intended bride. Unfortunately, it put her closer to Mr. Hale.

  He cleared his throat and spoke softly. “Someone told me to come over here?”

  His voice alone sent shivers up her spine, and she bit her bottom lip to regain control. “Yes, that’s Miss Sophia, the owner of the hotel where you’ll be staying.” Far away from Brokken Arrow Ranch, thank goodness.

  More men from the train gathered around, at least twenty. Miss Sophia took charge and spoke.

  Deborah took the opportunity to pull Lavendar away. She gave her friend’s arm a shake and whispered. “I didn’t know all of these men replied to the advertisement.”

  Lavendar’s blush deepened. “You’ve been gone three weeks, and we had many men, more than we dreamed of, to answer our advertisements. Preacher Grisson has had a time of keeping it all organized. Of course, Miss Sophia and I helped.”

  Miss Sophia still spoke and gracefully swung her good arm. “Leave your luggage on the platform. Someone will bring it to the hotel in a few minutes.”

  Deborah frowned at Lavendar and leaned closer to whisper. “Do you have room for all of these men? We’re supposed to take the overflow to the ranch. I didn’t think we’d need to until the next group arrived.”

  Lavendar’s eyes widened, and then she smiled. “Oh, I forgot you’ve been gone. Your grandparents agreed to take the overflow. Some of the men will double up at the hotel.”

  Miss Sophia continued speaking and now said. “If you’ll follow Miss Lilley, she will show you where you will be staying.”

  Deborah entwined her arm with Lavendar’s. For a moment, Lavendar’s feet stayed firmly planted. She looked around and smiled at Mr. Caper, and only when he began moving in the direction of the hotel, did Lavendar follow suit. Luckily, the hotel was not far from the depot.

  A dog ran ahead of them until Mr. Hale gave a short whistle. The dog returned to walk beside him. Lavendar moved closer, pulling Deborah with her. “What’s the dog’s name? May I pet him?”

  Mr. Hale nodded, and paused to allow Lavendar to kneel, to speak softly, before holding her hand for the dog to sniff. The other men, seeing the hotel’s sign, continued their way, including Mr. Caper, leaving the three of them behind.

  Lavendar seemed to have forgotten Mr. Caper as she continued petting the dog. “How does he get along with cats? Squirrels? Umm ... rabbits?”

  Mr. Hale tilted his hat back with his thumb and glanced at Deborah, a smile playing on his lips. She hoped her face was impassive but knew it was not.

  She forced herself to focus on Lavendar. “Dogs chase all of those animals.”

  “Rascal doesn’t chase cats,” Mr. Hale replied. “He got along fine with the barn cats at home.” His voice held a wistful tone, as if he was homesick.

  Deborah had not considered why he’d left home, to travel here to Brokken. Her curiosity was piqued, but she ruthlessly squelched it and decided to leave Lavendar with Mr. Hale. She continued toward the hotel.

  Isaac waited for her and jumped down from the wagon seat when he saw her. She ran to him and took his hand. “I’m so glad to be home.” Tears threaten to fall, and she pulled back to gently chastise him. “I thought you’d meet me at the depot.”

  “I’ve only just arrived in town and saw the group walking toward the hotel. I figured you’d be with them.” His smile broadened. “I’m glad you’re back, Miss Deborah. I’ve had a time of it with your grandparents.”

  Deborah sighed. “You can tell me all about it later. From what Lavendar told me, we’re going to have to take some of these men home with us.”

  “I’ve already arranged it with Miss Sophia. That advertisement did its job.” His eyes swept over the men crowded around. He dropped his voice. “Wasn’t the sheriff going to check them out before we took them to the ranch?”

  “Preacher Grisson was supposed to handle that while we were gone. I don’t think Sheriff Vic expected so many, though, and I’m not sure how thorough a job he has done. Her father hasn’t spoken to you?”

  “No. Not a word.”

  Someone near them muttered, “What’s Miss Brokken doing with the darky?”

  Another voice answered, “He’s the Brokken Arrow foreman.”

  Deborah twisted around to see who spoke. There were too many men crowded around to be sure.

  Mr. Hale arrived with Lavendar, but he had pulled his hat low over his eyes again. His hat hid his hypnotic eyes, and Deborah felt both disappointed and thankful. Although he had stopped near them, she di
dn’t bother introducing him to Isaac. He’d stay at the hotel, and she’d never have to see him again. Even if he stayed in Brokken and married Miss Waldruff, she’d make sure she stayed far away from him.

  Lavendar beckoned Deborah, worry in her eyes. “I don’t think Miss Sophia wants a dog in the hotel, though I think it’d be lovely.” Her worried eyes searched Deborah’s, and she stepped closer to whisper. “Although, to tell the truth, it does concern me some. Please don’t tell Miss Sophia, but sometimes I bring the babies with me to work.”

  “Babies?”

  “Bunnies and squirrels—those who’ve lost their mothers.”

  Deborah nodded in sympathy. Still, she’d rather not have Chance Hale on the ranch where she was more likely to see him. “Speak to Miss Sophia, to see if she will allow it ...” Her words trailed off when she caught sight of Lavendar’s pale face.

  Deborah didn’t want Mr. Hale at the ranch, but neither did she want to put Lavendar’s pets in danger. She glanced toward where he stood. Although his hat remained pulled low, she suspected he watched her, and her breathing deepened. She grimaced and turned her back on him. “I suppose Mr. Hale and his dog can stay at the ranch.”

  Lavendar reacted by giving her a hug.

  Deborah comforted herself with the fact that even on the ranch, she did not have to see that man. She would make a wide berth around the bunkhouse if she ever headed in that direction.

  On the way home, she’d sit with Isaac up front, of course, so she wouldn’t even know Mr. Hale was traveling with them. It was highly unlikely he would speak, and home was a short distance away.

  She glanced over her shoulder at the man who caused her such turmoil. The sooner she got to the ranch, the better. She’d stay shut up in the house with her grandparents, willingly, until he married Miss Waldruff or moved on.